


Jealous

by Flightless_Bird



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Assuming that these two stayed in a hotel, Come love these two with me, Flirting, Flirty!Yuuri, Fluffy, I don't know how figure skating works, Jealous Victor is a gift to this world, Jealousy, M/M, Romance, Set after Episode 7, The hotel employee is sassy as hell, There will be tooth-rotting fluff, Victor speaks Russian, Yuuri has a fan, jealous!victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-18
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:04:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8584879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flightless_Bird/pseuds/Flightless_Bird
Summary: The idea prickled in the back of Yuuri's mind and he glanced sharply at Victor again. Was he...Could he be....? The idea was soon followed by another, one much more devious and Yuuri brought a hand to his mouth to hide a half-smile. Well, there was only one way to find out.





	1. Flirtatious

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! I have fallen into Yuri!!!On Ice hell and I can't get up. So have this fic. Comments make me very happy and I'd love to hear your feedback (and I love requests so what do you want in the next chapter?c:) Also, my translations are based solely on Google. So please do not harm me for my lack of Russian.

It happened, surprisingly, not in front of Christophe, or Phichit, or any of the other skaters that were normally around them. No, this particular incident happened back at the hotel, after the flashing of lights and sound at the rink.

  
They were standing at the front desk, Victor trying to work out a problem with the room. (Apparently someone else had checked in with a similar name and the rooms were mixed up in the system. Yuuri wasn't sure how the hell that was possible) Lazy in a jacket and black sweatpants, wishing he was in bed right now, Yuuri leaned against the desk with eyes half-shut. God knew he'd been tired before he'd even gotten out onto the ice. Now that he was off of it, he was utterly exhausted. The sooner he could get to a bed, the better.

  
"Hey."

  
The voice was from behind him and Yuuri glanced back. He wasn't used to people randomly talking to him. So it was a surprise to come face-to-face with a stranger. A stranger who was actually fairly attractive, brown hair soft around hazel eyes and a smile on his face. "You're Katsuki Yuuri, right?" he asked, excitement evident in how he shuffled a little on his feet.

  
"Uh, yeah," Yuuri answered.

  
"I saw you skate, on TV," the boy replied excitedly. His smile widened, eyes sparkling. "You were great!"

  
Yuuri felt warm inside at the praise and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Oh, thanks. I'm happy you liked it."

  
The boy leaned forward, bringing himself into the circle of Yuuri's space. "I'm Jack, by the way. All of your performances have been really great so far," he commented warmly. "How do you pull it off every time?"

  
"Well, it's not just me," Yuuri answered, shoulders lifting in a shrug. "Victor helps with a lot of it." He cast a glance at Victor beside him, still talking with the woman behind the desk. It was natural for the attention to immediately switch to him once he was mentioned. It happened every other time.

  
But not this time.

  
"Yeah, but you're the one skating," Jack pointed out. There was a soft coloring of pink in his face when he spoke and his gaze never left Yuuri. "You're um, you're really amazing." Not once did he glance Victor's way. Not once.

  
What the hell was happening here? "Oh, uh, thanks," Yuuri stammered, unused to such compliments.

  
"Yuuri?"

  
Yuuri nearly jumped, not expecting Victor to join the conversation. Luckily, he held back the squeak that threatened to come out of him too. Victor had this odd, curious expression on his face, blue eyes shifting from Jack and then to Yuuri again. "Who's this?"

  
"Jack," Yuuri answered, puzzled. He gestured to the other boy, who was smiling a little sheepishly under Victor's gaze. "He said he watched all the performances and really liked them." Yuuri smiled as he said it; it was impossible not to be flattered by such words. "Isn't that cool?"

  
"Mmhm," Victor hummed noncommittally, propping his chin on his hand and turning back to the impatient employee. There was something strange in his face, something vaguely disapproving but that Yuuri had never seen before. It was the shortest and most unenthusiastic answer Yuuri had ever heard from him.

  
His lips parted slightly in shock. That was kinda rude, actually. Was Victor not feeling well? "Uh—"

  
"So, um," Jack spoke up suddenly, "I know that this might be weird, but my little sister really likes you too." Yuuri tore his gaze from Victor, then blinked when he saw the notebook being offered to him. Jack gazed up at him through questioning, hopeful eyes. "Could you maybe autograph this for her? Her name's Destiny."

  
Yuuri could feel a blush creeping up into his face at the words. He'd never been asked to give an autograph before. _Is this how Victor feels all the time_? he thought, as pleased butterflies swirled around in his stomach. _Or is he just used to it by now_? "Yeah, sure," he said happily, accepting the notebook. Their fingertips grazed as he did and he thought he saw Jack turn a shade redder in the face. Brushing it off, he lifted the notebook up to write and then realized stupidly that he didn't have a pen. "Do you have a pen?"

  
"Hey, Yuuri?" Victor said suddenly, pulling Yuuri's attention away for the second time that night. He still had that funny tone to his voice and his eyes kept sneaking over to Jack. Then he nodded toward the notebook in Yuuri's grasp. "What're you doing?"

  
"Oh, Jack's sister really wanted an autograph," Yuuri explained. "But I need something to write with..."

  
"Hold on." Shifting a step toward Yuuri, Victor fished around in the pocket of his coat for a pen.

  
"Sir," the hotel employee piped up from behind the counter, slightly irritated. "I think you'll have to wait a bit while I search for your name in the system."

  
Victor glanced up at her, jaw dropping. "I thought that's what you were doing the whole time," he protested, voice ending on an almost-whine.

  
"Sir, if your name is too similar to someone else's, it's hard to search for you in the system without some form of ID," she told him matter-of-factly. "And I haven't gotten any yet, so..." She trailed off, a look in her grey eyes that hinted that this wasn't the first time she'd had trouble with their computer system.

  
"You need my _ID_?"

  
"Yes, sir. Unfortunately, you claiming to be Victor Nikiforov is not enough."

  
" _What_?"

  
Yuuri fought the urge to roll his eyes. It looked like it was going to be a long night. Gaze drifting away from the woman, he spotted a pen sitting on the desktop. "Never mind, Victor, I found one," he said, plucking it from its place next to the stack of hotel business cards. Clicking it open, he set to writing his name across a clean sheet of notebook paper. _Should I add a message or something? I've never done this before_...

  
"Thank you so much," Jack gushed cheerfully. "She's gonna love this." He watched Yuuri write with something akin to adoration.

  
Victor shot him a glance, then looked back at Yuuri. "Er, Yuuri—"

  
"Sir, can you please give me your ID?" the woman cut in. How many freaking times was she going to call him sir?!

  
"Are you sure you need it?" Victor asked, disbelieving and evidently in denial over his woman's disregard for his obvious and very famous identity.

  
She heaved a very long, very exasperated sigh. "Yes, I am sure I need it. I can't make any exceptions."

  
Victor leaned an arm on the desk and gave her his sweetest, world-champion smile. "Not even for—?"

  
"No," she deadpanned.

  
Damn.

  
Victor dropped his head onto his folded arms, sighing in despair. Then he dug grudgingly reached into his pocket to retrieve his ID.

  
Meanwhile, Yuuri had finished signing the notebook (with an added, _Destiny, I'll skate my hardest for you! Thank you for the support_!) and was now studying Victor with head cocked. There was definitely something off about him tonight. It was pretty normal for him to try grabbing Yuuri's attention every other minute, but not when he was talking to someone. And he never treated anyone the way he was treating Jack, who was just being nice, even if he was kinda fawning over—

  
Oh. _Oh_. The idea prickled in the back of Yuuri's mind and he glanced sharply at Victor again. Was he...Could he be....? The idea was soon followed by another, one much more devious and Yuuri brought a hand to his mouth to hide a half-smile. Well, there was only one way to find out.

  
"Here you go," he said, holding the notebook out to Jack again. He made sure to flash his brightest smile. As Jack reached for it, Yuuri pulled it back teasingly with a gleam in his brown eyes. "Unless you want me to write something for you too?"

  
Jack's eyes widened a fraction, but the blush that spread across his face said it all. "Y—yeah, that'd be awesome! Thank you."

  
Now, how did he do this? _Just act like Victor_. "No problem!" Flipping to a new sheet of paper, Yuuri brought his pen up again. As he did, he sent a playful glance Jack's way and winked.

  
The poor guy looked as though his heart stopped and Victor made a strange noise in the back of his throat. Yuuri slanted a look up at him, noting the dark expression on Victor's face when he saw Jack's excitement at the flirting. Then those sky-colored eyes landed on Yuuri's. Yuuri arched a brow as though to say, _what's the matter_? Jaw tightening, Victor's shoulders lifted in a tiny shrug: _nothing at all_. Then he looked away again and watched as the woman typed his ID into the computer.

  
Yuuri most certainly wasn't buying it. Not after the way Victor was ruffled by Yuuri's attention being directed somewhere else. Not after every performance with Victor's eyes on him the entire time. Not after the last performance, with Victor running to meet him halfway there, on the ice. Not after...

  
Yuuri's heartbeat stuttered and he almost had to drop the act at the flood of emotion that hit him then. He couldn't think about what had happened out in the rink today. It never stopped stealing the breath from his lungs all over again.

  
And he was supposed to be acting confident right now.

  
"Here you go," he said cheerfully, having signed the notebook again and holding it back out to Jack. As he handed it over, he made sure to let their fingertips brush again. "Hey, if you ever come to one of my performances, I'll look for you. Don't be shy, okay?" He rested a hand briefly on Jack's shoulder.

  
"O—okay, sure," Jack stammered. He held the notebook close to him, looking as though Yuuri had just made his day. "Thanks again, this means a lot."

  
"You're welcome." Yuuri stuck his hands into his jacket pockets and smiled. He wondered for a moment if this little show of his was still affecting Victor at all.

  
As if on cue, the woman behind the counter spoke up at last. "Well, Mr. Nikiforov, it looks like you're in Room 328. Does that sound right?"

  
"Yes," Victor exhaled, eager to be done with this entire mixup.

  
"All right, let me get your room keys then." Turning away, she snagged two keys from somewhere behind the desk and then passed those over to him with his ID. Brow furrowing suspiciously, she added, "and you're only getting one room?"

  
"Yes."

  
"For the two of you."

  
"Yes...?"

  
There was a long minute of silence as she studied him. The customer-service politeness dropped from her voice for a second. "Are you aware that there is only one bed in—?"

  
The confidence was washed completely away by that one sentence. "Okay, Victor, I think we should go now!" Yuuri broke in, spinning away from Jack with face burning. The woman raised her eyebrows at him.

  
But Victor only shot her another thousand-watt grin as he accepted their room keys and slung an arm over Yuuri's shoulders. "Thank you!" he chirped, as he started to lead a sputtering Yuuri away. "You've been a lot of help!"

  
"But, wait are you guys, like...?"

  
" _Izvinite, chto_?"

  
"What?"

  
" _Ya ne ponimayu tebya_."

  
"I don't understand Russian!"

  
" _Ya lyublyu pudeley_."

  
"I KNOW THAT YOU SPEAK ENGLISH."


	2. Helpless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey, wait," Yuuri tried, worry and fear mingling in his voice as he hurried into the elevator after him. God, he'd just been playing around; he hadn't meant to hurt Victor's feelings."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this so fast, it's not even funny. So I'm sorry if parts of it seem rushed... Anyway, you are all so wonderful, thank you for so much feedback on this. It means a lot and I really hope you enjoy this chapter just as much! :3

They made it halfway to the elevators before Yuuri said it.

  
"You're jealous."

  
Victor looked at him like he'd suggested they both sleep out in the streets. "What?"

  
Yuuri's mouth curved up at the side and he glanced up at Victor through twinkling brown eyes. "You're jealous," he repeated.

  
"Of who?"

  
"Of the way that guy was talking to me."

  
"How do you know that?"

  
"Oh, well then, I guess maybe you aren't." Yuuri shrugged as they came to a stop in front of the elevators. Leaning forward, he pushed the button and settled back beside Victor again. Then he added casually, "he was kinda cute, though."

  
Victor growled under his breath and Yuuri shot him a triumphant grin. "I knew it!" he accused, laughing as Victor frowned at him. Dark bangs drifted across his forehead as he tipped his head to the side curiously. "I don't think I've ever seen you jealous before."

  
To his surprise, Victor's expression remained closed-off and he kept his gaze trained on the elevator doors. "I don't think I've ever seen you so...friendly with someone before," he muttered.

  
The doors slid open with a cheerful ding, but Yuuri stayed put. His triumph had been completely stomped out by the look on Victor's face. He gaped as Victor headed into the elevator without a single glance in Yuuri's direction. "Hey, wait," Yuuri tried, worry and fear mingling in his voice as he hurried into the elevator after him. God, he'd just been playing around; he hadn't meant to hurt Victor's feelings.

  
The two stood beside each other as Victor pressed the button for their floor and the doors slipped shut again with a whisper of sound. Yuuri stared in disbelief at his coach, noting the way Victor hid his hands in his coat pockets and scowled firmly at the wall in front of him. It was unlike Victor to sulk and frankly, Yuuri didn't like seeing it. But if he'd really made Victor feel bad...

  
"Victor, you know I was just playing around, right?" he asked, tentative to venture out into the silence. But he couldn't stand this space between them; it was like a rock in his chest.

  
Victor lifted a shoulder in a shrug.

  
"I was fooling around. It didn't mean anything."

  
Those stormy blue eyes flicked to him for an instant, but they were gone again in a second. "I don't know if he thought you were 'fooling around,'" he finally said, too quiet. Bitterness crept into his words. "You were very convincing."

  
A burst of frustration lit up inside of Yuuri at that. He turned to face Victor with hands in determined fists at his sides. "Well, you're hardly innocent either," he snapped, surprising himself as much as Victor. Victor's eyebrows rose, but Yuuri pushed on. "You have fans crawling all over you all the time and you don't see me complaining about it."

  
"That's different," Victor argued. There was a hard tone in his voice that Yuuri _hated_ , but he wasn't about to back down.

  
"Oh, it's different?" he asked snidely. "It's bad if I smile for a single fan, but it's perfectly fine for you to flirt with the whole world on camera?"

  
Victor's eyes flashed. "Yuuri."

"You're only mad because you know it's true," Yuuri accused.

  
"I'm mad because you're better than this."

  
"What if I don't want to be better than this, huh?" That caught Victor's attention. His gaze jerked up to Yuuri's face, but Yuuri just glared right back at him. Dammit, his hands were shaking and he could feel that familiar stinging in the backs of his eyes. "What if I want to flirt with guys who like me? What if I want to show off for cameras? What would you do then?"

  
"You don't want that," Victor scoffed, but there was a tremor of unease in his voice. Sick victory heated up inside of Yuuri. He had him now.

  
"But you do. You always have. So why do I have to be any different? Just to make you happy?"

  
"No."

  
"Then what?"

  
"Yuuri, stop."

  
" _Why do I have to be any better than you?"_

  
"Because you were only acting like that to get at me!"

  
Yuuri stilled, taken aback. Suddenly, his anger didn't feel quite so strong anymore. He couldn't remember the last time Victor had raised his voice with him. Blowing out a rough exhale, Victor ran a hand through his hair, silvery bangs flopping back across his face. He waited in the silence for two heartbeats before he glanced back up at Yuuri. His shoulder sagged slightly in what looked like defeat. "It doesn't matter if you want to act that way, Yuuri," he told him, calmer. "But the reason you're doing it does. What I do for the cameras isn't the same as what I do for you."

  
"What do you mean?"

  
"I'm not in love with the cameras."

  
Yuuri's heart froze. Victor couldn't mean what he thought he meant. That wasn't—that wasn't possible. But Victor was avoiding his gaze all of the sudden, shoulders a bit hunched, and with this _look_ on his face; normally-bright gaze downcast and with strands of hair falling to hide half his face. But Yuuri could see enough to know that it hadn't been easy for Victor to admit what he had. Even the most secure people had things they couldn't say.

  
Swallowing, Yuuri shifted a tiny step toward him. "Victor—"

  
With a happy chime, the elevator doors opened, revealing an older couple standing at the other side. The woman glided through the doorway first, flashing a grin over her shoulder to who Yuuri assumed was her husband. The husband shook his head with a charmed smile and hit the button for the floor just beneath Yuuri's and Victor's. Then he slid in beside his wife and laced his fingers with hers. They gazed at each other with shining eyes, faces soft with affection.

  
The quiet was now ten times more uncomfortable. Yuuri and Victor had retreated to the back of the elevator to leave room for the happy couple. As they slowly climbed through the hotel, Yuuri watched the husband and wife murmuring to each other, a few snickers shared behind hands. There was hardly a breath of space between them. Yuuri's heart ached. He was well aware of Victor's rigid form next to him. It felt wrong.

  
_We shouldn't be like this_ , he thought. His fingers curled into the hem of his jacket as the husband slipped an arm around his wife's waist and pulled her in close. The thought crossed Yuuri's mind before he could stop it. _We should be like that._

  
Without thinking, he inched closer to Victor. Their elbows were centimeters from touching, but it might as well have been a foot. They had never been so distant, not since Victor had threatened to resign and Yuuri had burst into tears. Yuuri's chest constricted and he waited to make sure that the couple's murmurings were loud enough to cover his own before he spoke. "I'm sorry," he whispered, studying his shoes instead of meeting Victor's eyes. "I didn't mean what I said."

  
There was a soft sigh and then Victor whispered back, "I know."

  
"And you were right," Yuuri admitted. "I don't want all the fame and things like that. They don't really mean anything to me."

  
Half of a wry smile tugged up the side of Victor's mouth. "I didn't really think that it meant that much to you. I would be very worried if I thought they did."

  
Yuuri couldn't help but offer a small smile in return. It was impossible not to. Victor's smiles were contagious, even the smallest ones. Hesitant, Yuuri reached out and took hold of Victor's sleeve between thumb and index finger. It was a light reassurance, nothing more at the moment. "Even if I did care about all of that," he began softly, nerves fluttering inside of him, "how could you ever think that it would mean as much to me as you do?"

  
There was a heavy pause. The elevator hummed. The couple giggled to themselves in their own little world. Back in their own world, in the small space at the back half of an elevator, Yuuri felt as though he was holding his breath. He felt a slight sting of hurt when Victor moved his arm, tugging his sleeve from Yuuri's grasp. Then he skimmed his own hand down Yuuri's arm, until he found his palm and laced their fingers together. Yuuri was sure that his heartbeat couldn't possibly get any faster right now.

  
"Are you sure that you aren't just teasing me again?" Victor asked softly, amusement making his voice warm.

  
Yuuri felt himself relax. The distance was gone again. A huff of laughter escaped him. "You have to admit, you're very easy to tease," he joked.

  
A wonderfully crooked smile curved up Victor's mouth. Then he suddenly gave Yuuri's hand a tug, sending him tripping over his feet. Yuuri gave a tiny gasp as he stumbled and Victor let go of his hand, letting him fall forward. In the next instant, their sides were pressed together and Victor's arm had looped around his waist to halt his fall. Yuuri's skin tingled at the sudden influx of body heat and the soft solidness of Victor against him. If he breathed in even the slightest bit, he could smell Victor's cologne and it was absolutely dizzying.

  
He very nearly squeaked when Victor angled his head down to whisper in his ear. "Who's easy to tease now?"

  
"You're not playing fair," Yuuri protested, even as he leaned into Victor. A giddy shot of electricity danced up his spine when Victor's arm drew tighter around him, hand dipping into Yuuri's jacket pocket.

  
"You've never played fair," Victor pointed out.

  
"I haven't?"

  
"You don't remember? Before every performance..." Trailing off with a soft sound, Victor nosed lightly at Yuuri's hair and sent his pulse into overdrive. "'Don't ever take your eyes off me,'" he quoted tauntingly.

  
Despite himself, Yuuri smirked a little. "You never could anyway."

  
"Yes, but you didn't have to point it out."

  
"I wanted to make sure you were paying attention."

  
"I'm paying attention now."

  
Glancing up, Yuuri started when he found himself faced with gorgeous blue eyes, unfathomably gentle. Victor had looked at him like that back at the rink, only once before now. With hair like spun sugar across his face and like he was just discovering what it was to long for something.  
"Yuuri," Victor murmured, and he said it like it in a way that had Yuuri's heart melting.

  
"What?"

  
"I want to kiss you."

  
Yuuri inhaled quickly, flitted his eyes down to Victor's mouth. "You already did." It was the first time he'd spoken of that fleeting time on the ice since it'd happened.

  
A smile quirked up Victor's lips. "I want to kiss you again," he corrected himself.

  
"N—not here," Yuuri stammered, a wave of shyness crashing into him all of the sudden.

  
Victor pushed out his bottom lip in an adorable pout. Damn him. "Why not?"

  
"Because there are people," Yuuri hissed.

  
"I already did it on national television..."

  
"Victor."

  
"Fine. You win." Turning his head away, Victor lifted his gaze to where the elevator was kindly informing them that they'd reached the couple's floor. "I'll just wait until they leave then."

  
Yuuri's eyes widened as the wife took her husband's hand and led them toward the opening doors. As they rounded the corner out into the hall, Yuuri stuttered out, "w—wait, what?"

  
He barely had time to get anything else out before the doors were sliding shut and suddenly Victor had him by the hips, was touching their foreheads together—

  
His lips were on Yuuri's in the next moment and Yuuri's mind blanked. It didn't matter how close they were or how many times they'd touched before. Nothing would ever prepare him for kissing Victor, for only the second time in his life. Abruptly, he remembered that they were in an elevator and that they had precious few minutes before they reached their floor.

  
He responded immediately, arms flung around Victor's neck, the fingers of one hand tangling deep into his hair. Leaning up into it, he kissed back drunkenly and thought of every time he'd imagined this, longed for this. Right then, he decided that he was going to make Victor as crazy as he made Yuuri. He was going to show him that he didn't belong to the world anymore; he was Yuuri's, all Yuuri's.

  
" _Victor_ ," he rasped, as Victor backed him up against the wall. His arms around Yuuri's waist cushioned his back against the metal railing and his next searing kiss left Yuuri's knees weak. He twisted his fingers in Victor's hair and the way he whimpered into Yuuri's mouth left him breathless. Hands were slipping under the back of his jacket and scorching the small of his back. He clung to Victor almost frantically, desperate for more of him, for anything he could get.

  
"You," Victor breathed, leaving Yuuri's mouth to kiss a hot path down his jaw, "are incredible, Yuuri."

  
Yuuri's head dropped back as Victor's lips found the line of his throat. His teeth met a particularly sensitive place and Yuuri arched into him, biting back a moan. His voice came out high and breathy. "Victor—"

  
"I'm in love with you," Victor murmured into the crook of his neck, a confession burned into his skin. "I'm so in love with you, Yuuri, _moye solnyshko."_

  
Yuuri's heart swelled and he grinned breathlessly. Victor Nikiforov was in love with him. He dropped his head onto Victor's shoulder, nuzzling into the curve of his neck. He smelled so good there, like cologne and ice and _Victor_. Yuuri let out a tiny weak sound of helpless love. "I've waited for you for so long," he whispered. "I've never stopped waiting."

  
Nose in Yuuri's hair, Victor smiled affectionately. "You don't have to wait anymore."

-x-x-x-

Later, when the two were in bed, in a tangle of limbs and sweet kisses, Yuuri nosed his way into Victor's collarbone and sighed. "What did it mean?" he asked quietly.

  
"What?" Victor's breath stirred Yuuri's hair, night-black against the pillow. Smiling a little, he brushed the strands from Yuuri's forehead.

  
"What you called me, in the elevator."

  
Victor wrinkled his nose, remembering, and then grinned that heartrending grin. " _Moye solnyshko_?" he asked. Yuuri nodded, absently tracing patterns across Victor's chest. Shivering, Victor pulled him closer under the sheets. "My little sun," he whispered.

  
Yuuri's smile curled up against Victor's collarbone.

  
"Because you light up my world," Victor added with dramatic cheesiness and Yuuri gave him a playful shove.

  
"Shut up, you dork."

  
Victor just laughed at him, and the sound was like music in the dark.

**Author's Note:**

> Translation: Izvinite, chto? "Sorry, what?"
> 
> Ya ne ponimayu tebya. "I don't understand you."
> 
> Ya lyublyu pudeley. "I like poodles."
> 
> Oh, Victor. You poor jealous, Russian dork.


End file.
